The List
by Aletta-Feather
Summary: A strange case presents itself to Abbie and Ichabod: one to do with cows. Short story.
1. Chapter 1

**The List**

**Of Cows and Questions**

"Miss Mills, why…?" They were driving towards an incident with escaped cows due to an explosion. Fortunately, they were called in for the explosion, not to gather the cows. Although Ichabod wouldn't have minded that either…

"Is it for the list?" she replied shortly.

He sighed. "Yes, but why…" he continued stubbornly.

She looked at him. "I'm serious."

About two weeks after he had arrived, she had invited the list. Its purpose was first and foremost to keep her sane. Ichabod was filled to the brim with questions and she could not answer all of them at once. They had agreed, he reluctantly, that she'd answer short and more relevant questions on the spot but that the others would end up on the list. One for each day, seven a week. During a quiet moment, Monday lunch or Friday dinner, she would answer them as best as she could.

It worked pretty well so far, Abbie thought. Otherwise there be no more time for actual work. He reminded her of babysitting during her teens sometimes. "Abbie, why is the sky blue? Abbie, why do plants drink water and babies drink milk?" She chuckled. She wasn't sure if he'd look favorable at the comparison.

Which was one of those things… He was so damn hard to read sometimes. On this subject, for instance…. He might be appalled at being compared to an small child, perceiving it as an insult to his pride and dignity, but it was equally possible that he would smile and say something about the natural inquisitiveness of children that so many adults had sadly lost. Abbie chuckled again.

"What's so amusing?" he inquired, a little suspicious.

"I was thinking about the list," she said. He laughed in return.

The list had come to signify many things. A battle ground. A guide. A log of their differences. A diary of his progress. The questions had changed over time with most of the immediate ones being answered. They'd argue about it too, whether or not a question was fit for the list… Did it demand an immediate response or should it be put on the list? Ichabod, without question, always argued the former… He'd also find ways to snuck in more questions, dividing them up in sub-questions in an attempt to beat the count of seven. Abbie indulged him occasionally, depending on her mood.

He knew when he was beaten. It was all in her tone or posture. "So what may have caused the explosion?" he inquired instead.

"It could be any number of things… A gas leak, maybe an exploded tractor…"

"Wouldn't a gas leak be in town, rather than on the outskirts?" he wondered.

"Probably… So maybe an fuel tank..?"

"Ah yes, that might work. Of course, the cause could be far more sinister…"

It had crossed her mind too. A lost mine or hand grenade was a possibility as well, it would depend on the size of the explosion, however, she had learnt to keep an open mind to causes…

And so she should…

Apparently it hadn't been a tractor or a fuel tank. It had been a cow! One of the cows had exploded just like that… and as it touched two others, they had too!

"Well, I'll be…" Abbie said as the farmer recounted his tale. He was still shaking as he was quite nearby when it happened. His wife had grabbed his arm to keep him on his feet.

"Was there any kind of .. residue? Gun power?" Ichabod tried.

"I don't know," The farmer, conveniently called Mr. Farmer, replied. "I was mending the fence and I heard this loud, extremely loud BANG, and as I turned around I saw one of the cows… torn to pieces and the.. pieces fell down on two others who exploded in turn…"

"And those pieces did not touch anything…" Abbie gathered.

"Fortunately not," his wife answered. "The other cows then broke free so they are being gathered as we speak."

"Perhaps you should put them in another field for now," Abbie advised.

The farmer and his wife left to assist the search party.

"Any ideas?" Abbie asked Crane.

"Gathering the pieces seems to be the ordinary procedure, yet in this case…" he said. "I, for one, would be quite hesitant to touch…"

"Yes, me too. Perhaps we should alert the bomb squad or something."

"Yet the pieces did not explode when they touched the ground, so maybe touching animate objects releases the charge…"

"As in contact with living things causes the explosion?" Abbie clarified.

"Indeed, it would appear to be so." He nodded.

"Ever heard about that?"

"There were experiments," Ichabod remembered. "It is quite useful, if something does not affect inanimate objects, keeping the logistics in place."

"Sounds like a neutron bomb… but there's still the radiation which would it impossible to still use the buildings, even if they remain intact…"

"Neutron bomb?" he asked.

"I don't know how it works," she said honestly. "It's a bomb that kills people but buildings do not get damaged, like with ordinary bombs, however, the radiation afterwards makes it impossible to keep using the buildings anyway…"

"You do not imagine this is…" he said.

"No, not really, but we do need the bomb squad; they could also measure if there's any radiation. I'll make the call."

As they were waiting for the squad's arrival, Abbie and Ichabod talked about animals. Cows, goats, cats and dogs. Abbie always wanted a dog but that wasn't possible in foster care. Ichabod had not been accustomed to animals much as a child, other than his horse, his father being an Oxford don…

However, in the America's, well, there had been plenty in his surroundings. He clearly remembered chickens pecking at his hands whilst he tried to obtain their eggs. He liked cats and dogs, but didn't have any particular desire to own one.

"Exploding cows, not really my thing though…" Abbie said.

"Me neither…" he laughed. "Such an odd occurrence.."

"There they are… Let's see what they have to tell us." The bomb squad had arrived and so had two radiation experts all suited up.

"Are they wearing plastic?" Ichabod wondered.

"Something like it, yes, to protect them from radiation, if there is any."

"We were not protected, just now…"

"Neither were the farmer and his wife, or anyone of the search party.. Therefore, I am hoping," Abbie said, "that there is no radiation, otherwise…"

"You'll have to explain this radiation concept to me. It is quite relevant… so it should be answered sooner rather than later." He said, making sure it wouldn't end up on the list.

"Perhaps you can ask them," Abbie replied. "They know a lot more about it than I do."

"I think I will then." He thought it a splendid idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Soap and Sulfur**

They had explained the concept of the neutron bomb to Ichabod. It had all been very illuminating, he thought. Fortunately, there had been no radiation and they could continue their detective work.

The bomb squad had taken the cow pieces for analysis, and they were now combing the fields…

Nothing seemed out of place or out of the ordinary, and Ichabod was growing weary. There was only so much to investigate on a field filled with grass, but then he heard Abbie's scream…

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" he yelled as he approached her as fast as he could.

"I found the cause…. I think," she said quietly when he stopped in front of her, still panting.

A big metal oil can had leaked and some of the liquid had found it's way into the cow's water supply.

"But that is no oil..?" Ichabod stated with a puzzled expression.

"No, it's not… But whatever it is… I think it may be responsible for this weird explosion.. Let's hope it won't happen again…" she said, looking at some surrounding cows that had entered the paddock again. Despite her clear instruction they should have been put in another field…

"We have to leave this field…" she mumbled under her breath.

Ichabod suddenly noticed them too. "Weneed to take the evidence though…"

"No, don't..! It could be dange…" she shouted, but Ichabod had already grabbed the can.

He smirked at her, holding it triumphantly in the air.

"You could have gotten us killed!" she snapped at him and made for the gate. Slowly… as they couldn't risk disturbing the cows.

After the longest and scariest crossing of a field ever, Abbie sighed in relief when the gate shot behind them with a loud clang.

"We made it… pfff.." she sighed.

"We should deliver this to the scientists," he said, like nothing had happened.

"First this farm is going in quarantine," Abbie responded fiercely. "We don't want anymore accidents like that!"

* * *

Ichabod gloated. He had won!

The case had been a bit dull ever since they had put the farm under the strictest rules of quarantine. Nothing more to do but wait for the various lab results.

Abbie didn't like waiting much, and although it usually made her cranky, Ichabod had found a way to take her mind of it… by discussing the list. They were sitting in their favorite lunchroom eating fries and burgers. Abbie silently thought that she preferred cows this way: safely on her plate.

The frustration of the long wait had made her more lenient instead of less so, and therefore Ichabod had started on his tenth question for the week… with sparkling eyes because of this victory.

"And… so, why are they called soaps? They are nothing to do with cleaning!" he asked affronted. They had a lot to do with all manners of intrigue and adultery however…

"At first…" this one she knew easily, "the audience were mostly housewives and the commercial breaks all featured washing powder and such…"

"But instead of actually washing… they'd be watching television instead…" he said with a disapproving look. "It makes no sense at all..!"

Abbie smiled. "Nope, it doesn't. But they sure got plenty of money out of their adverts…"

"How does that..? I don't follow…? Shouldn't the housewives be buying the powder to get money out of…?"

"You're on your eleventh question, now, don't think I haven't noticed.." she said sternly but with a smile on her face nevertheless: "Put that one on for next week."

His sighed with a dramatic flair…. She had been indulging him whereas he had truly hoped that she hadn't noticed…

Abbie's phone rang. "The results… So soon?"

After a bunch of hmm's and oohh's, Ichabod also heard what had been happening. A very rare kind of sulfur acid had been the cause. The scientists were still puzzled as to how it had been exactly possibly, but it seemed the oil can was the cause…

"How on earth are we going to find out..?" Ichabod began. "Anyone could have put that can there…"

Abbie smiled. "Yes, anyone could, but whoever did forgot to wear gloves, so with a nice set of fingerprints, it won't be too hard…"

A resentful old lover of Mrs. Farmer had been the culprit. His own divorce had just come through, whereas she was about to celebrate her twenty-fifth anniversary. Too afraid and still too attached to Mrs. Farmer he had decided to attack her cows instead, changing the sulfur acid into a more powerful substance in his home-made lab.

"So glad it wasn't demons this time…" Abbie sighed. "But just plain old jalousy.."

"Let's celebrate the result by…"

"I'm not answering anymore questions.." she replied, glaring at him.

He pouted a bit before he answered. "I think you will though… Bar or restaurant?"

Abbie laughed. "Bar, I think. Liquid courage for tomorrow!"

Tomorrow there might be more demons to fight… but tonight was for drinks and stupid centuries old cow jokes.


End file.
